Cantarella Another Story
by JYAS
Summary: Based on the song, with a very unexpected twist. There's a couple of interesting people attending the ball tonight, and the morning promises many more events to follow...


**Disclaimer: I do not own Vocaloid. **

**I love this pairing with all of my heart.**

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><p>Delicate fingers traced the smooth metal surface. Every occasion, the crack in the door, the light seeping through it, would reflect off of the yellow nail polish or gilded edges. Finally, the clock struck, and the hand curled around the thin but precious piece of art, which was brought towards a face framed by golden hair. It was time. The feet swiveled in the direction of the door, towards the crack of light, and pushed the heavy oak barriers away. The sounds of the overflowing ballroom spread through the room like an echo. And one high-heel clad foot stepped forward.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Cantarella<strong>

* * *

><p>The one with golden hair scanned the dancers, as well as the few who lingered near the refreshments table. The bright light from the extravagant chandeliers reflected off of the polished tile floor, making for a nearly blinding scene. The person took a hesitant step backwards, ruffling the edge of a dull gold dress.<p>

A few eyes turned towards the new guest; others were more courteous to their partners, remaining firmly fixed on the dance. The guest was still searching for someone to dance with.

The one in gold was startled by a hand. It was being offered. The one at the end of it was a gentleman in a pure black ensemble - even his mask, a staple of ball attire, was black. The gentleman smiled a slightly malicious smile and inquired in a soft whisper if he would be honored with a dance. With due hesitation, the golden beauty accepted.

Soon, even the more courteous dancers had to stop to look at the pair, gold and black moving so quickly it was hard to tell who was where when. The golden highlights on the gentleman's cape and the black ruffles on the golden mystery's skirt merged them more than ever. It was not long before the unknown couple were the only ones dancing, having arrested the attention of all others.

When the final notes of that song rang out, the two came to a halt, and the ballroom erupted in applause.

The honorable lord of the house was the last one clapping, stepping towards the main attraction. "Welcome, guests, I don't believe that I've had the honor of greeting either of you personally, and for that, I do apologize." The gentleman smiled cryptically while the beauty curtsied. "But I was very blessed to get to see you dance. I imagine finding a similar spectacle is a difficult feat." Again, the gentleman did nothing but smile in that less-than-friendly way. "Well, sir, lady, I hate to detain you further, but as thanks for that performance, might I invite you to spend the night?"

As was customary, the gentleman waited for his partner's response first. Said person's pink lips parted as if to speak, then closed once more, no sound having been uttered. Eventually, a reply was given in a simple nod. Accordingly, the gentleman said, "I would be grateful to you, sir, if you would."

The lord's face spread into a mirthful grin. "Excellent! Now, my guests!" He turned to the observers. "The night is still young! Dance, converse, and have a drink!" He turned to the orchestra. "We shall have music!" And so they did.

The lord returned his attention to the more brightly dressed of the couple. "Excuse the question, my lady, but am I correct in assuming you have a heavenly voice?"

The person in question seemed a little taken aback.

"Forgive me, I know the question is rather impertinent. But you _can_ sing, can you not?"

A nod.

"Excellent! Then may I ask you to accompany a piece we have here? I know just the song, and something tells me that your voice shall be perfect for it."

Unconsciously, the singer turned towards the gentleman, as if asking for help or consolation, but the look on his face betrayed no concern or sympathy. Reluctantly, the high heels took their owner towards the orchestra, to whom the lord of the house was giving instructions.

Quite suddenly, the man turned to his guest, looking very excited indeed. "Very good, then! My lady, if I may make my request, I would like you to sing a song. I have no doubt you know it." He conveyed the title of the work; his guest knew it and assented to sing it. "Right, then. I shall give you a moment to prepare."

In a few minutes, the talking and snacking halted once more, as once again all attention was on the stranger. The other stranger in black was leaning against the wall with a thin glass of wine, a smile playing on his face. The strains of a piano echoed through the ballroom; it was a soft song, and the flute that supplemented it was not at all harsh. But what had warranted the interruption of so many conversations was not the instruments so much as the _voice_.

The lord had assumed that asking a lady if her singing was heavenly was an invitation for arrogance, but it appeared that the description almost did not do the singer justice. The smile on the face of the one with the wine glass seemed to challenge the heavens to find a more angelic voice.

Even after the final line was sung, it felt that something was omitted, but the piano and the flute pressed on regardless. When the room was silent once more, it was only a moment before a wave of applause came with renewed energy. The beauty's head simply flushed a pretty shade of pink and turned to one side. The gentleman did not move to clap.

The golden angel was asked to sing song after song until it was very late indeed; finally, some hours past midnight, the gentleman from earlier that evening came to the rescue, commenting to the lord that at this rate, he would spoil the heavenly voice, and that would be a shame. So the two were set free for the day, as were the rest of the guests. Hordes of nobles came towards the pair, all of them intent on offering their compliments to the quite supernatural voice they had been treated to. Much to the beauty's grateful surprise, however, the gentleman drew his partner away towards the hall, hand placed firmly on the singer' hip.

They waited in silence, backs pressed against the wall to the right of the doors leading back into that bright room. The hallway they had found themselves in was lit by nothing other than the full moon, which was streaming through the wall of glass windows opposite them. There was nothing to say or do until the lord came back this way to show them to their rooms.

The angel stole a glance at the gentleman, but it was mostly futile in the monochrome light. It only served to conjure to memory his odd hair color - which was not terribly surprising when all who attended the ball were reveling in odd hair colors and intricate masks. Even so... there was someone else with that same color of hair, once...

The door to the ballroom opened quite suddenly, more jarring in the light than the sound, since that room, too, was silent now. The lord had the same jubilant smile on his face. "Sorry for the wait. Shall I lead you to your rooms now? Ladies first, of course."

Once at the door, the lord and the gentleman had to bid their brightly colored companion good night. A few minutes later, the gentleman, too, was fast asleep, soon to be followed by the lord himself.

* * *

><p>The next morning, a maid with honey blonde hair knocked on the door and was startled to find the famous guest of the house both fully dressed and quite awake. She then proceeded to explain that the lord had invited both the lady and the gentleman to breakfast. It was at this point that she had to think about whether or not to offer her services. On one hand, the lady seemed perfectly ready for the day; on the other, she might require some sort of assistance... in a split second judgment, the maid opted to simply bow and leave her guest to what remained of her preparations.<p>

The gentleman, on the other hand, was greeted by an older-looking woman with a considerable number of gray hairs. The maid explained the same offer to him, which he acknowledged. When the maid offered her assistance, it was curtly - almost impolitely - turned down... and thus both parties were alone in their respective rooms.

A reasonable time later, the dining room had two occupants. When the dance partners of the night before saw each other, both noticeably stiffened; the gentleman because the beauty had removed the mask, and the beauty because the gentleman had kept it. The golden-haired teen's captivating eyes visibly narrowed with distrust, while the discourteous young man simply smirked. The maids tried, in vain, to dispel the thick atmosphere, apologizing profusely for the lord's absence - apparently, he had been detained by some business in the garden, and would be late.

Upon hearing the news, the young man simply smiled his unsettling smile and bid his partner sit down. Still distrustful, the teen did so. Their tea was taken in silence, the air far more uncomfortable than the night before. "Will you not remove your mask?"

The man's surprise was evident, even behind the black barrier. Then he regained his slightly amused composure. "I am not yet comfortable revealing my identity."

His companion gave an irrepressible 'hah' of disdain, head turning towards the glass windows, looking onto the bushes beyond.

Not a moment too soon, the lord approached their table, giving many apologizes of his own for his momentary cunctation. After he felt he had made sufficient amends, he started on the topic of the garden. "It's my pride and joy; you won't find a finer one in the country!"

This seemed to perk the masked man's interest, and thus a conversation was struck up. The very cross beauty remained aloof through the entire thing. The only sign that the more responsive guest noticed at all was the rather inappropriate smile on his face.

After a lengthy discussion that was increasingly one-sided, the lord stopped for breath. His face held some amount of hesitation, the cause of which was soon revealed. "My lady, I would like to request yet another thing of you. Do not misunderstand; I hate to neglect you even a moment, kind sir," he nodded at the other guest, "but it is a matter of great concern and quite private. I hope that I might interest you in our library in the meantime?"

The masked man seemed to consider this. "Very well, but may I instead have a look at these gardens you have spoken so highly of?"

"Why, of course! I would be honored and delighted!"

"Well, then. Excuse me." He nodded towards the golden guest across from him, and swept away towards the garden.

The beauty faced the lord, an indication that he could speak. Again, the man became a little hesitant. "I must confess that this is a rather embarrassing request, especially seeing as I have only just made your acquaintance, but please do understand that I would not be so bold if I were not absolutely certain that this decision is for the best." He took a breath. "I would like to ask the highest of favors regarding my son..."

Meanwhile, in the garden, the masked man's face was beginning to show his annoyance. The honey-haired maid from before was following behind him, seeming eager to make conversation with her much less enthusiastic companion. Eventually, the man could take it no longer. He rounded, and less than kindly told the maid that she had performed her function, that there was no more need of her there, and that if she knew what good for her, she'd give him some peace. So she did.

The masked man glanced back at the dining table, which was clearly apparent thanks to the untouched condition of the glass windows. He could see a person clad in a flowing gold gown, and one in the suit of a lord; it was apparent that his host did not imagine him to be so discourteous as to watch their conversation, but the masked man felt he had little obligation to a man he had known for less than a day.

He could not quite make out the expression of the one with golden hair, but it likely wouldn't be much use if he could; it had been made quite obvious the night before that the mysterious beauty was less than outwardly expressive. Even so, he masked man felt his attention repeatedly drawn back to that window, impervious to the stunning flowers around him.

After some length of time, another maid - the one with silver hair - deigned to interrupt his observation. This one insisted on showing the guest around, regardless of his own feelings, and would remain undeterred no matter how candid the man was. Resigned, the stranger did finally direct his attention towards the intricate garden.

* * *

><p>Some hours later, the sun was high in the sky, and the flowers - mostly roses - showed clearly among their deep green surroundings. The maid had been called away for some other important task, leaving the man free at last, but it was of little consequence; he could not find the lord again, the pair apparently having moved from their spot just inside the window.<p>

When the masked man did again find the beauty, he did not find the lord. The one presently keeping the teen's company was an unfamiliar boy with similar blond hair, seeming to be around the same age. The boy was smiling rather gently, while the face of his companion was hidden from their observer's view. Even so, the expression on the boy's face was more than enough to conjure up strong feelings in the man's body, ones that expressed themselves in clenched fists and teeth. It took only the boy offering a rose to his companion to make the man stalk off. There was planning to be done.

The first one that the one in the mask came across was the honey-haired maid, very unfortunately for her. He halted her with mock cordiality, the smile seeming a little more openly malicious than usual, and enquired as to any other guests on the premise. The honey-haired maid replied that there were none, to her knowledge. He then called the blond boy to her attention. At this, the maid expressed recognition, reporting that the boy in question was undoubtedly the lord's son, currently looking for a suitor. At this, the masked man cut her off, and returned to his room.

There was no further interaction between the previous dancing partners that day. When the beauty was asked, by the lord, what impression his son had made, the reply was very much in the affirmative. "He's of mild temper and intelligent mind." However, that was not enough for the lord; he wanted a confirmation that this lady would marry him. "Certainly, my lord, you do not mean that I should be ready to marry a boy I have known for no more than a few hours?"

The lord spread his hands. "I see no reason to object, my lady. He is my only son: all that you see here will be his - and very shortly at that. He has not given you an ill impression, as far as your report has gone, and if you wish further persuasion, you may refer to any of the staff here. I guarantee to you that not a single one of them will say anything to his disadvantage, for sheer virtue of his character."

The beauty gave an apologetic sigh, blue eyes glistening with uncertainty. "I'm unsure of the wisdom of such a quick move. It is not by fault of your son, my lord, but I do wonder if _he_ is in favor of such expedience. After all, we have known each other for but a few hours..."

"I will give you as long as you like. In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here."

"...Thank you, sir." His hopeful daughter-in-law stood up and went in the direction of the guest rooms.

The masked man stood in the way of those rooms, however. One glance at him, and the teen's face frowned. "You still will not remove your mask, sir?"

The man's mouth turned up into one of those eccentric smiles. "I was wondering if you had a moment."

"Not for masked men."

"I am hurt. Is age really so unkind to me?"

"Then pray tell; how old _are_ you?"

"How very rude of a lady." The words came out as a mockery.

A sigh. "If you wish to talk of age, then please do talk. If not, it is unwise to bring it up at all."

"A fair argument. I am but 2 years older than you."

The golden-haired teen's frown only deepened. "You would bring up my age and claim to know it in one sentence? Now who is the one being rude?"

"Would you care to step inside?"

A clear side-step of the question. The singer wouldn't have it. "If this is not a conversation, then I shall return to my room." The masked man allowed passage, though only through inaction. The smile stretched wider over his mouth.

That night, long after the majority of the mansion's occupants were asleep, two were still awake and about. One stood still in the garden, staring up at the moon. "Do my eyes deceive me? I could lay my honor that it was the full moon yesterday night as well..." A slight breeze came along and ruffled his hair. The rush of the wind against his ears, however, masked the approach of the other that was up that late. And in a quick motion, a flash of metal, and an inaudible scream, there was only one awake that night. Just he and the roses.

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><p>The next morning, there was considerable distress at the mansion. Not a soul could find the lord's son. The lord apologized prematurely, assuming that his hopeful daughter-in-law would take this as an act of cowardice on his son's part, as if running away from marriage; no such interpretation was made. And still the search continued.<p>

Eerily, neither guest seemed to be overtly concerned, but that could be attributed to their adherence to the reserve befitting guests. Seeing as all of the manor's inhabitants were entirely preoccupied with this crisis, however, the guests really had no other choice than to take solace in each other's company, something that they both seemed determined to avoid.

Unfortunately, both parties decided to hide out in the garden, and it was not long before they were once more in contact. The one in gold thought immediately of turning in the opposite direction, but knowing that would be rude, continued forward until the two were face to face. It seemed that the very presence of the golden angel was enough to bring a foreboding smile to the masked man's face.

"Well, we have both given it our best in our attempts to avoid each other. What say you we put aside this futile goal and have civil conversation in my room?"

The unmasked blue eyes narrowed. "I do not know what you are talking about, sir. If I had been giving it my all, I certainly would not have seen you."

The look in the masked man's face showed his thoughts - _I shall let you win this one_ - and the one without a mask was positive that this crack in the barrier was entirely intentional. The man gestured towards the mansion - _after you_ - and his companion had very little choice but to follow. Not only by manners, but also the look in the man's eyes.

Once the door was shut and locked, the one who was unfamiliar with the room had time to examine it. It had a very nice outer wall, being almost entirely glass windows, looking over the garden, and it was rather elegant in its sparse furnishings. The only things of note were the table and chairs, both of high-quality, and the rather large canopy bed located in the darkest corner of the room.

By the time that the golden-haired teen had taken in all of this, the man had retrieved a bottle of wine. "Sit, sit. Ladies first, after all." Again, there was that slightly mocking tone, as if he was telling a private joke that the listener was not privy to.

The man had set two wine glasses on the table, already filled. He then took his own seat across from his companion and held up the glass. "Now, we may commence 'civil conversation.'"

The angel would have none of it. "We are in your room now, the equivalent of home away from home. Now either insult your host by implying that this room is not suitable, or _remove that mask_."

The man frowned, then gave a sigh, putting down the untouched glass of wine. "Really, I find it quite disagreeable that you can be so hung up on such matters. Is it not polite to allow a man to be within his comfort zone?"

"Is it not polite to reciprocate acts of trust? My mask is off; so shall yours be, if ever you were a gentleman."

"I do not claim to be a gentleman."

"And certainly you aren't."

"I am glad we have this all cleared up then."

"If you are not of the gentle class, then what were you doing at the ball last night?"

"Now who is acting lower class?"

"You are not a gentleman, therefore I need not be polite."

"Not so, for a member of the gentle class must always be civil, while us lesser people are free."

"I find your logic highly disagreeable, sir."

"And I find you the same. Now, can we turn to a topic of more interesting matter?"

"You seem to have a subject in mind. If you are so set on it, then by all means, disclose your secret. I have no will to flail for it."

"Very well: what think you of last night's ball?"

"Why is it that your types always find it so interesting to dye your hair such absurd colors?"

"May I very politely enquire if your heart is set on being unsociable?"

"Perhaps, or perhaps it is you that drags it out of me. So, your hair color?"

"Why is it of interest to you?"

"It reminds me of someone. Someone I knew once..."

"Well, I doubt that I am he. After all, I do believe I'd remember such foul company."

"And I would as well. You are hardly as he was. Though you share the same disregard for others."

"Do we?" The man gave a laugh. "Allow me to remedy that, then." He held out his hand; in it was a single rose, of the brightest yellow. His companion only eyed it skeptically.

"Why the change of heart? One minute, you are set on not being a gentleman; the next, you are the epitome of it."

"I simply to do not want to bear any resemblance to the person of which you speak."

The golden-haired angel sighed, peering down at the reflection in the wine glass. "Such an odd color..."

"The wine? Not at all."

"No, your hair. What made you choose such a color? It is neither of the sky nor the trees, as the others would have dyed it."

"Perhaps I did not dye it."

"Now you jest."

"Perhaps. Will you not drink?"

One hand tilted the slim glass back and forth thoughtfully. "Very well. A toast?"

"Indeed. To your beauty?"

"To the expedient end of our company."

They drank.

The man's smile seemed happier, quite suddenly. "Very good. I don't believe I've had your name?"

"Ah. For me to tell you would be..." For some reason, there didn't seem to be a good end to that sentence. "Anyway, I've only known you for a week."

"For two days."

"That's what I meant." The blue eyes furrowed. "It's very curious. My eyes have gotten blurry."

"Lack of sleep?"

"Very likely. But like this... you look... just like him. The teal hair..."

"Yes, well, that is all very natural." The man waved it away. "Say, you look very pale. Are you sure you don't want to lay down?"

"Perhaps that is for the best. I shall return to my..."

"No need. I have no immediate use of my bed, and it is closer."

"Well, your logic is certainly flawless."

The man gave a chuckle as he took the delicate hand. "This is from the one who only a moment ago was calling my logic 'highly disagreeable'? The drug must be working."

His companion, with widened eyes, tried to pull away from the other's grip, but found that the nerves weren't quite working the way they usually do. Quite suddenly, the angel was thrown onto the bed.

"You really are quite beautiful," said the man with another low chuckle. "Even if you are a boy."

The blond glared up defiantly at his captor, even as he felt his body get number. "How do you know that?" he growled.

The man shrugged. "It's not too hard to notice. But what I'm really wondering is why."

"It's none of your business!"

"Then it shan't bother you if I disclose this to the other members of the gentry? Or to the honorable lord who is currently housing us?"

The boy bit his lip. "I have to dress this way. Besides, what do you stand to gain from all this?"

"Exactly what I want, is all."

"By blackmailing me? What could you possibly get like that?"

"Oh, I wasn't really blackmailing you. I can get what I want far more easily. For you see, sir, what I want is _you_."

The boy's heart skipped a few beats. "Do you know what you're saying?! Fully aware that I am a male, like yourself?!"

"Quite. It's really no different from you marrying that lord's son, is it?"

"It's entirely different! And besides, now that you have disclosed your plan, how do you suppose to 'get' me?"

"Oh, I already have, sir. For I'm sure you've noticed that you can no longer move most of your body."

"..." It was true; he could no longer even feel most of it now. But the boy would rather die than admit that to this deceitful kidnapper. Anyway, it didn't matter much to the masked man whether his prey admitted it or not: the fact remained that getting what he wanted would be child's play. He had prepared this thoroughly, from the blindfold to the rope to the drug. Yes, nothing would stop him now.

"...Sir," came the soft, almost feminine plea. The masked man didn't hesitate a moment as he tied the captive's wrists together. "Sir, I am certain that I have never met you before, and yet you are set on having me. I do not understand."

The man thought about this. "You may be right. But I see no reason to explain it to you, since it will happen regardless." He was shocked to see tears streaming down his companion's face. After all, it had been proven time and time again that the one he coveted was not of a weak will, and up until but a moment before, it seemed that the blond would remain strong in that. Yet, undeniable tears were on his cheeks, and many more were rapidly taking their place. "Why are you weeping?"

"I weep for the innocence that I shall lose now."

"Why is that?"

"Because in my heart, I had promised it to another." The man was intrigued.

"Did you, now. And who might this be?"

Under normal circumstances, the blond would have been loath to disclose such information, but the drug did far more than just paralyze his body. "M-My knight. It was a hopeless arrangement, to be sure, but I had always wished to give it to that person, or remain forever celibate."

"I have not heard of female knights." The blindfold was in place, the boy's wrists secured; there was nothing to stop the masked man from doing what he had planned. Every second was precious if he was not to get caught. And yet, he was delaying, for sheer curiosity. "If there are no such things, then might I suppose that you wished to give this innocence to another male regardless?"

The blond bit his lip. "That is correct."

For a moment, a doubt grew in the man's mind. "I believe that there are a few facts that might be of some importance to you. My hair is indeed teal. I am not of the gentry; rather, I am a disgraced knight. Furthermore, my name is Hatsune Mikuo, heir to the servers of the Kagamine family for generations."

The boy gasped, the tears increasing in frequency. "Mikuo..." The words were mere whispers on his mouth. "Could this really be? Could such a coincidence really come about?"

"It seems so. Do tell me, Prince Rinto, why you are dressed in such a startling fashion?"

The boy's pale face was colored with a light pink blush. "It was your fault, Mikuo. Do you not remember?"

* * *

><p><strong>Several Years Ago<strong>

"I'm Rinto! I've been told you're my knight."

The teal-haired boy stared at the hand in front of him, but did not shake it. "That's right. I'm Mikuo."

"Right! ...So what's a knight supposed to do?"

"Protect you, your highness."

Rinto giggled. "Silly! That's not what it is! All the servants call me 'my lord.' I'm just a duke, after all, not a prince."

"Well, not to me. To me, you will always be 'your highness.'" Mikuo kneeled, taking the pale hand and pressing his lips to the back of it. He flicked his clear, serious eyes upward to Rinto's rapidly flushing face. "Until death do us part, my prince."

In the days following that, Rinto and Mikuo were inseparable. Mikuo would help the duke with his homework, chase away dogs, and tell him about the world outside of the estate.

"Hey, Mikuo?" Rinto said one day, while they were laying on a hill somewhere on the edge of the rather large Kagamine estate. "I was learning from Mrs. Megurine today... and she said that 'Till death do us part' is a marriage vow." Rinto turned to his knight. "Why did you say that to me, then?"

Mikuo hardly needed a moment to think. "Because getting a knight is sort of like marriage. After all, you can never be apart again..."

"Ever?"

"A knight would rather die than lose his prince." Mikuo turned his smile to Rinto, and was startled to see him on the brink of tears. "Wh-What is it?"

"I-I don't want you to d-die, Mikuo..." sniffed Rinto sadly, voice wavering. Mikuo blinked and sighed.

"I won't die."

"How do you know?! It's not like you choose to!"

"Then let's make another promise."

At this, Rinto became curious. "Another one? What good will that do?"

"It's stronger."

"Stronger than marriage?"

"Yup." Mikuo's face spread into one of those slightly malicious grins, the ones that Rinto loved so very much, and held out a hand to his prince. Rinto gladly took it, so they were both standing. Then, very slowly and gently, Mikuo kissed his lips. Almost immediately, a shriek of alarm came from nearby. Mikuo looked towards the sound, eyes sharp but collected.

It was a maid from the estate, come to tell them that lunch was almost ready. And yet she had found the two of them - both boys - so young - and they were - kissing! Her mind was on overload. "Sir Hatsune! You are a disgrace to your family! Remove yourself from our lord at once!"

Rinto snapped his worried eyes towards Mikuo, but the knight's expression betrayed nothing. They were only children, yet at that moment, with Mikuo staring down the maid, he looked so much older... And so wordlessly, the tealette stepped away from the duke.

Rinto instinctively reached for Mikuo's hand, but Mikuo pulled it away. When their eyes met, Rinto could make out nothing of sympathy or concern in those teal depths. It was all cold and unfeeling. "Mikuo..."

"My lord, please head back inside," pleaded the maid in frenzied tones, watching the knight the way one would a wild animal. "I'll take care of this."

"But Mikuo-"

"Just stay away from that monster!"

Rinto cast his eyes from the maid to Mikuo, back and forth, deeply conflicted. Every time he reexamined the tealette's expression, he saw even more nothing. Mikuo wasn't helping him. Rinto was in distress and Mikuo _wasn't helping him_. Was the maid right, and Mikuo really had betrayed him...?

"My lord, go back inside," urged the nurse again. When Rinto still didn't move, she grabbed him by the wrist and harshly pulled him towards her. If Rinto weren't preoccupied, he would have seen the possessiveness and anger flash through Mikuo's eyes. "My lord, we'll take care of him, so back inside..."

"What'll you do with him?" asked Rinto, fear shaking his voice.

"We'll take care of it."

"Mikuo... what'll they do to you?" There was no reply.

"Go inside, my lord, it'll all be over in a little while. He'll be taken away."

That was the wrong thing to say. "Mikuo!" Rinto began to cry. "Please don't take him away from me, please!" But another maid had come to see what the hold-up was, assessed the situation to a satisfactory extent, and led the sobbing and struggling Rinto away. "Mikuo!"

* * *

><p><strong>Present<strong>

"After that day, there was much chaos at the house," continued Rinto's soft voice. "They weren't sure how to cover up such a scandal... it would tarnish the family name forever."

"I see."

"So they decided that they'd just say they had a girl instead. I was very young at the time, and I had led a very sheltered life... before long, I was just Rin Kagamine, ready to be married off to a suitable noble. Once the unlucky man found out, it would be too late, and his family's reputation would also hinge on keeping my secret. Thus the terrible truth would live and die with me."

"So this is the reason the Hatsune family has not fallen out of favor," mumbled Mikuo, realization dawning. "And you were going to marry the lord's son, Len?"

Rinto smiled. "I had no plans to marry him. I swore myself to you long ago. You know full-well how stubborn I was back then, Mikuo; imagine what I must be like now, with all manners of ideas at my disposal?"

"For twisting and abusing," agreed Mikuo slyly, all the appreciative evil in his expression detectable in his voice. Then he remembered the matter at hand. "But I have not changed my mind, my prince. I have no intention of dying, and I would sooner do that than allow you to marry another."

"I understand, Mikuo. And that is why I am yours, now and always, in body and soul. I have waited for you since that day, and now I will live for you as well."

Mikuo wondered how much of this was genuine and how much of this was the drug. Nonetheless, his intentions were indeed the same, and so he slowly removed his mask, and dove down for a kiss. "And I shall be forever yours, my prince."

* * *

><p><strong>I apologize to those readers who found the lady's identity an unpleasant surprise, but the story wouldn't have really worked if it weren't a surprise. ^^ Also, their personalities may seem a little different than usual, but that's more to fit in with the time period. <strong>


End file.
